


Tim Stoker's Guide to Romance

by bluebirdishere



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Good intentions going poorly, Jon is a disaster but he's trying, M/M, Martin is very confused, No beta we kayak like Tim, Tags will be updated with story, The Mechanisms Were The Archivist's College Band, Tim is a supportive friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:00:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27097720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebirdishere/pseuds/bluebirdishere
Summary: After finding out that Jon has feelings for Martin, Tim takes it upon himself to teach the Archivist to be romantic. It goes about as well as you'd expect.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 84
Kudos: 224





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW for a brief description of a panic attack

Jon glared down at his container of leftover stir-fry.

The break room microwave had failed to adequately distribute its heat across the food, leaving some parts far too hot and others as cold as they’d been before being stuck in the microwave. Jon angrily stabbed at his meal, already frustrated from an unexpected meeting with Elias earlier that morning. He could feel a headache coming on, a problem that was not helped by Tim and Martin. The pair sat on the break room couch, laughing loudly at something on Tim’s phone.

“See, Marto? I _told_ you it was a good show!”

“Alright, fine, you were right.” Martin’s face was flushed from laughing as he wiped a tear from his eye. “I’ll check it out this weekend, then,” he said, and Tim grinned at him.

Jon tried not to scowl at the scene in front of him, unsure as to why it irritated him. The loud noise was worsening his headache, yes, but it was nothing a couple of aspirin couldn’t fix. Besides, contrary to what most people thought of him, he wasn’t a _complete_ stick-in-the-mud. As long as they got their work done, he was fine with his assistants having a laugh every once in a while. There wasn’t any reason for him to be bothered by his coworkers having fun, so why was he so angry about this?

“Hey, Bossman!” Tim’s voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he looked back over towards the couch. “Wanna come watch with us?”

This time, Jon did scowl at them. “No. Shouldn’t you be getting back to work soon, anyway?”

Tim rolled his eyes, but took his phone back from Martin before standing up from the couch. “Jon, you know there _are_ other things in life besides work, right? You should try having fun every once in a while, would be good for you.”

“What would be good for me is getting the archives in order,” Jon grumbled. “And not that it’s any of your business, but I _do_ have fun sometimes.”

“If you say so, Bossman.” There was Tim’s infuriating grin again.

Martin, who had been quiet throughout the exchange, finally spoke up. “Leave him alone, Tim. I’m sure he has plenty of fun outside of work.”

Jon’s lips twitched slightly upwards. “Thank you, Martin.” A blush appeared on Martin’s cheeks, and Jon could feel a similar heat in his own face, though he didn’t understand why.

“Y-yeah, Jon, of course.” Martin awkwardly rubbed the back of his head before standing up from the couch. “I, uh, better get back to work.” With that, he practically ran out of the break room, leaving behind a confused Jon and Tim.

Well, leaving behind a confused Jon, who had no idea why a simple “thanks” was enough to send Martin packing. Tim, on the other hand, looked delighted by whatever just happened.

“So you _are_ capable of being nice to poor Martin every once in a while. I knew you had it in you, boss!”

Jon scowled again. “I’m not a _total_ arsehole to him.”

“So you agree that you’re an arsehole to him?”

“I’m-“ He sighed, unsure of how to proceed. “I know I can be rude to him, yes, and he doesn’t actually deserve it, but there’s just… something infuriating about him that I can’t explain.”

“Huh.” Tim actually looked thoughtful at that, and he pulled up a chair to join Jon at the table. “Infuriating how?”

“For starters, he frequently makes mistakes in his work, which is both surprising and frustrating given that he’s a hard worker who clearly cares about his job. He’s always kind to me, even though I don’t deserve it given how I treat him. He’s kind to everyone, really, and it feels genuine, as though he actually cares about you. He’s… nice to just be around, I suppose, though I can’t understand- why are you looking at me like that?”

The grin on Tim’s was back and and wider than ever. “I think I know what’s going on here.”

Jon looked blankly at him. “You do?”

“Yep. You’re the schoolchild who bullies his crush because he doesn’t know how else to handle it.”

“Wh- I do _not_ have a crush on _Martin!_ ” The words came out louder than Jon intended, and he hoped that neither Martin nor Sasha had heard them from the archives. Even with all the fake statements he regularly read, he was quite certain that Tim’s declaration was, objectively speaking, the most ridiculous string of words ever uttered in human memory. There was no way he had a crush on _Martin Blackwood_ , of all people. Tim rolled his eyes again.

“Think about it. You admire his work ethic. You think he’s a good person. You like being around him. What other explanation is there?”

“Tim, there is absolutely no way-“ Something occurred to Jon, derailing his train of thought. As ludicrous as the idea was, having… romantic feelings towards Martin would explain several things; for starters, why he’d been so annoyed at seeing Tim and Martin laughing together. Why he’d felt himself blushing after Martin stood up for him. Why, even though Martin frustrated him to no end, he frequently found himself thinking about the man.

“Oh, good lord.”

He put his head in his hands and groaned.

“I have feelings for _Martin Blackwood_.”

Panic began to rise in his stomach, and he brought his hands up to clutch at his hair. Jon _couldn’t_ have feelings for Martin, it was- it was inappropriate, for one. Boss-employee relationships were probably forbidden by HR, and even if they weren’t, there was too much of a power imbalance present for it to be an equal dynamic. But he didn’t need to worry about that, because there was no chance of Martin liking him back, given how poorly Jon treated him. Guilt began to manifest, joining the panic and constricting his lungs. He began taking rapid, shallow breaths, trying desperately to get air back inside his body, but it wasn’t working, it wasn’t _working_ , he couldn’t-

“-breathe, Jon, c’mon, breathe with me.” Tim was suddenly in front of him, saying something that Jon was barely processing. He grabbed one of Jon’s hands and placed it on his chest, taking a deep breath. “Follow what I do, okay?” Unable to speak, Jon simply nodded, trying to mimic the steady rise and fall of Tim’s chest. After several minutes of copying the movement, Jon was able to get his breathing close to a rate resembling normal. He removed his hand from Tim’s chest.

“I… I’m feeling much better now.” He gulped, relieved at being able to take in air again, and grateful that Tim had helped him. “Thank you, Tim”

The look of concern on Tim’s face gave way to relief, though there was still worry in his eyes. “Of course, Jon.” He paused, a thoughtful look on his face, before continuing. “You know that developing feelings for someone isn’t actually the end of the world, right?”

It was Jon’s turn to roll his eyes. “Of course I do.”

Tim raised a skeptical eyebrow

“I _do_ ”, Jon insisted. “It’s just that- it’s impossible for Martin to reciprocate my feelings, and even if he did, I’m still his boss. A relationship between us would be highly inappropriate.”

Tim stared at him for several seconds, not saying anything. Finally, he took in a deep breath before speaking. “Okay. First of all, as long as you’re not using your authority to pressure him in any way-

“I would _never_ -“

“-then I don’t see how it’s inappropriate. Secondly, how can you be so sure he doesn’t return your feelings?”

Jon huffed. “We agreed earlier that I’m an arsehole to him. There’s no way someone as nice as him could ever like me. Besides, I wouldn’t even be able to give him everything he would want in a relationship.”

“Putting the worrisome self-deprecation aside for a moment,”- That earned another scowl from Jon.-“what do you mean by that last bit?”

He sighed. “I’m asexual. I don’t experience sexual attraction towards anyone, and frankly, the idea of ever having sex with anyone disgusts me. Most people _do_ expect sex out of a relationship, though, and I see no reason to assume Martin would be any different. As such, I wouldn’t be able to fulfill his needs, so it wouldn’t be fair to him to pursue a relationship.”

Tim pressed on, undeterred. “What if he _is_ different, though, and is fine with not having sex? You can’t know how he feels about that, or about you, unless you ask him out.”

“Which I am decidedly _not_ doing, for reasons I have already established. Besides, even if by some miracle he said yes, I don’t know the first thing about romance. We’d have a single awkward date and he’d never want to speak to me again.”

Tim didn’t respond to that. Jon, content that he’d finally settled the argument, began to rise out of his chair, intending to go back to his office and pretend they’d never had this conversation. He dumped the remains of his stir-fry in the trash and was almost out the door, when-

“What if I taught you?”

Jon paused where he stood. He looked back at Tim, not understanding what the other man was offering. “Teach me what?”

“How to be romantic! I teach you about romance, you use that knowledge to sweep Martin off his feet, and you two ride off into the sunset together!”

Jon stared incredulously. “You _can’t_ be serious.”

“As a heart attack, boss!”

The headache from earlier was now in full force. Jon sighed. “If I say yes, will you let me return to my office?”

“Certainly.” The grin on Tim’s face was insufferably large. “I promise you won’t regret this!”

“I’m regretting it already.”

Tim let out a hearty laugh. “C’mon, Jon, it’s not like I’m telling you to _propose_ to him. It’s basically just learning how to flirt. What could possibly go wrong?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jon realizes that he is, metaphorically speaking, fucked

Jon entered his office, flipping on the light switch and sitting down at his desk. It was 7 in the morning, a full hour two hours before he actually had to be there, but he wanted to try and get at least a little work done before Tim spent the rest of the day “mentoring” him. While he supposed it was… sweet of Tim to want to help, the whole idea struck him as an exercise in futility. Of course _Tim_ didn’t think it would be that difficult; the man could charm the trousers off of anyone with a wink and a couple compliments with barely any effort.

Jon, on the other hand, hadn’t had a relationship with anyone since Georgie, and even before her he’d barely had any idea how to pursue a potential romantic interest. He’d seen enough movies to have a very basic understanding of what sort of things could be considered “romantic”, but he had no idea how to actually apply any of that knowledge. On the rare occasion that he tried flirting, it usually came across as awkward and uncomfortable for both parties, and he was quite certain it would be the same if he tried flirting with Martin. He would make Martin uncomfortable, and then Martin wouldn’t want to be around him anymore, and would probably either quit or transfer to get away from his weird boss, and then Jon would never see him again, and-

_No. No. Not happening. No time for a thought spiral right now._ Taking a deep breath, Jon forced down the fear rising in his stomach and tried to focus on the statement in front of him. _Don’t make yourself more anxious about this than you already are._

It was a feat easier said than done.

9 AM rolled around far too quickly for Jon’s liking, and he grimaced as he heard his assistants entering their workspace. If he was lucky, Tim would leave him alone for at least a little while. If he was really lucky, Tim had forgotten about the whole idea already.

There was a quick knock on the door, followed by Tim poking his head in, a smile on his face.

“Morning, boss!”

If Jon was really, _really_ lucky, the floor would swallow him up where he sat. Sadly, judging by how Tim strode into his office, looking far too eager to start the day, the universe was not smiling upon Jon at the moment.

“Good morning,” he greeted as Tim sat down in the chair across from him so that they were face-to-face. He warily eyed his assistant. “Is there something I can do for you, Tim?”

Tim just grinned at him. “You haven’t forgotten what we talked about yesterday, have you Jon?”

“No, but I was rather hoping _you_ had.”

Tim fake-gasped, a hand flying to his chest in mock offense. “Why, boss, I cannot _believe_ you would insinuate that I would just _forget_ about something as important as helping you with your love life!”

Jon gave him an unamused glare. “I can name a million things that are more important than helping your boss humiliate himself.”

“Is one of them adjusting your attitude?” Tim meant it mostly as joke, but it only worsened the glare he was receiving. His face softened. “Look, this is not me trying to make my boss look ridiculous in front of his crush. This is me trying _as your friend_ to help you be happy, which you deserve, even if you don’t think so, okay?”

Jon was quiet for several moments before letting out a soft sigh. “Fine, but only because I know you’re not going to give this up.”

Tim grinned again. “I’ll take what I can get! Now, first things firsts, I wasn’t kidding when I said you needed to fix your attitude. If you want Martin to like you, you have to make an effort to be nice to him. Don’t snap at him over dumb shit, don’t be too harsh if he screws up, and try to say something nice about him occasionally. Got all that?”

Jon nodded. That was an easier first step than he’d been prepared for.

“Good. In that case, I’m going to go pretend to work.” Tim laughed at the scowl his teasing remark earned him. “Kidding, kidding. Best of luck, Bossman!” With that, he stood up and left the office, closing the door behind him.

_Well_ , Jon thought, _this shouldn’t be too bad._ After all, all he had to do was be nice to Martin without being awkward about it. It couldn’t be _that_ hard, right?

Several recordings and a few hours later, Jon’s work was interrupted by a knock on his door.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened to reveal Martin, who was standing in Jon’s doorway looking somewhat nervous. He had on an emerald green jumper, the color matching with his ginger hair quite nicely… not that Jon was thinking about that sort of thing.

“Yes, Martin?” He asked, hoping the heat he felt in his face wasn’t apparent on his cheeks.

Martin wrung his hands together. “Tim and Sasha and I were gonna grab lunch at the café down the street, if you want to join us… I know you normally don’t, and that’s fine, I just thought I’d, you know, put the offer out there… or, or if you’d rather not join us, we can pick something up for you, if you’d like!”

There was that baffling kindness again. Jon was quite certain he had done nothing that would warrant such treatment-quite the opposite, really- and yet Martin inexplicably continued to show it to him nonetheless. Still, as underserved as it was, being treated so kindly filled Jon’s chest with warmth. He internally cursed as he felt his heartbeat quicken. _Traitorous organ._

As tempting as the offer to join his assistants was, his only real option was to turn it down. How was he supposed to have any hope of surviving lunch if just the invitation made him feel gooey inside?

“I- I’m afraid I won’t be joining you this time, but I would very much appreciate it if you could pick me up a sandwich.”

“Oh!” Martin had looked disappointed, initially, but he perked up at the end of Jon’s sentence. “S-sure! What would you like?”

“Just a turkey and cheese, thank you.” Jon pulled out his wallet and fished out a £5 note. He held his hand out towards Martin. “Here you go.”

Martin extended a hand out to take the cash. As he grabbed it, his fingers brushed against Jon’s, and Jon swore he felt electricity run down his arm. He barely resisted the urge to yank his hand away, instead calmly taking it back after the note had been grabbed. Martin smiled at him.

“Alright, I should be back with the sandwich in half an hour.”

Jon smiled in return, and hoped it looked normal. “Thank you, Martin.” He paused. “And, uh, thank you for just… being nice to me, in general.”

There was a quick look of surprise on Martin’s face before a deep blush overtook his cheeks. He smiled awkwardly. “Y-yeah, of course, Jon.” He gulped. “I- I should go meet up with T-Tim and Sasha. “ With that, he turned and hurried out of the office.

As he watched Martin leave, Jon replayed the scene in his head. He hadn’t done anything too weird, had he? The conversation seemed normal enough to him, but maybe he was misinterpreting it? Had thanking Martin for what, showing Jon human decency, made him uncomfortable? _Something_ must’ve made him uncomfortable, judging by the speed with which he had fled Jon’s office.

Jon rubbed a hand over his face. Lord, he hadn’t even tried to properly flirt yet and he was already screwing this up. He really was doomed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Tim find out that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions

A week had passed, and Jon was not feeling any better about the plan. When he explained the incident in his office to Tim, fretting about whatever it was he’d done wrong, the other man just laughed and insisted that he’d not only done everything correctly, he should _continue_ behaving that way. Jon had been dubious, but reluctantly agreed. As the days went by, though, he was beginning to question that course of action. He knew, logically, that being kind towards Martin was far better than being mean to him was, but, well… it just seemed to make Martin _uncomfortable_. Every time Jon would smile at him, or thank him for something, he’d get flustered and find some excuse to leave the room. Jon could not figure out for the life of him what he was doing wrong. He sat at his desk, mulling the problem over in his head, when a knock on the door interrupted him.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened, and Tim strolled inside, closing the door behind him. He had a look on his face that suggested he’d come up with what he thought was a wonderful idea, which inevitably meant it was an idea that would annoy and/or humiliate Jon.

He pulled out the chair in front of Jon’s desk, sitting down and crossing his legs. “So, boss,” he began. “I was thinking that, since the past week’s been such a success, what do you say we move on to the next lesson?”

Jon stared at him, incredulous. “A _success_? Every time I try to be nice to Martin, he gets all rattled and runs from me like I’ve caught the plague! You can’t honestly consider that a success, can you?”

Tim shrugged. “He’s probably just not used to you being nice to him.” He raised a pointed eyebrow at Jon, who looked away in shame.

“Point taken.”

“Seriously, Jon,” Tim started, his expression surprisingly genuine. “You’re actually doing really well. If you weren’t, I would tell you, but I promise you are, okay?”

Jon wasn’t entirely convinced, but he supposed Tim knew more about this sort of thing than he did. “If you insist.”

“I do.” Tim’s sincere look was gone, replaced by his familiar grin. “Now then, are you ready for the next step?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope!” Tim cackled, the sound doing little to ease the growing dread in Jon’s stomach. Noticing the look on his friend’s face, Tim sobered up. “Aw, c’mon, boss, it’s really not _that_ bad.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” Jon grumbled. “What is it?”

Tim leaned forward in his seat, eyes gleaming. “So, the other day after lunch, I was walking back from that Thai place a couple blocks away, and I just so happened to notice a flower shop right down the street-“

“You’re suggesting I give Martin _flowers_?” The mere thought was enough to make Jon’s cheeks burn. “You can’t- Surely there’s a few steps missing between performing basic courtesy and giving someone _flowers_!”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Relax, Bossman. I didn’t think you’d be comfortable just handing him flowers, so I came up with a plan: you keep them in your office, and I’ll convince Martin and Sasha to join me in going outside the institute for lunch. Once we’re gone, you go and place the flowers on Martin’s desk. It’ll be perfect!”

Jon stared at his desk, considering it. After he several seconds, he looked up to meet Tim’s eyes. “You’re _certain_ this will work?”

“100 percent!”

“…Alright. What’s the name of the shop?”

The next morning, Jon sat in his office, a bouquet placed carefully next to his legs and hidden from view by his desk. He had refused to get roses on the principle that they were too obviously romantic (even if Tim claimed that was the whole point of the gesture). Instead, he’d gone with a display of red tulips, carefully arranged in a glass vase. They’d come with a card, but he hadn’t dared write anything in it for fear that Martin would recognize his handwriting.

The clock reached noon, and the sound of voices reached Jon’s ears, though he couldn’t make out what was being said. After a few minutes, there was a knock to the door, and Tim poked his head in.

“Hey boss, the three of us are gonna go to that new Chinese place across the street, if you want to tag along.” He winked at Jon, a clear signal to play along.

“Maybe next time, Tim, but I appreciate the offer.”

Tim grinned and moved back from the door. The sound of voices continued for a couple minutes before becoming fainter, then finally stopping altogether. Just to be safe, Jon waited a few minutes before peeking out of his office. Seeing that he really was the only one still in the archives, he retrieved the vase and carefully placed it on Martin’s desk. Once the deed was done, he made a hasty retreat back to his office, closing the door and trying to ignore the way his heart was hammering. Now all that was left was to wait for the others to get back from lunch.

Martin followed his fellow assistants into the institute, satisfied after a good lunch. Normally he ate at the canteen, or brought something he’d cooked at home, but he was glad Tim had talked him and Sasha into checking out the new Chinese restaurant that had opened nearby. The three of them made their way back into the archives, Sasha laughing at some joke Tim had told before suddenly going quiet. She turned to look back at Martin, eyes sparkling.

“Martin! You didn’t tell us you had an admirer in the institute!”

He furrowed his brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

She pointed a finger, and when he followed it, he couldn’t believe the sight that awaited him. There, sitting on top of his desk, was an arrangement of red tulips held in a glass vase.

“I… didn’t know I _had_ an admirer.” The idea of somebody buying flowers for _him_ , of all people, was a nice fantasy, but that’s all it had ever been, really- a fantasy. He couldn’t imagine anybody actually fancying him enough to perform such a gesture. He walked over to his desk, blushing as Tim wolf-whistled behind him.

Examining the display, he frowned in confusion. “There’s a card here, but it’s completely blank.

“Maybe the person who left it was too nervous to identify themselves?” Sasha asked, a thoughtful look on her face. Glancing at Tim, she saw a delighted expression on his face. In fact, he almost looked like he’d been waiting for Martin to see the flowers. _Interesting_ , she thought, making a mental note to grill him about it later.

“Maybe…” Martin said, trying not to be too disappointed. He would’ve liked to have known who’d left them there. Still, even if he didn’t get to know who his admirer was, the flowers were quite lovely. He leaned in closely, took a sniff…

…and promptly let out a loud sneeze.

“Bless you,” said Tim. “You alright there, Marto?”

Martin nodded, sniffling. “Yeah, I’m f-“

He was interrupted by another sneeze, followed by a third, then a fourth.

“Oh, shit.” Tim went to grab the vase off Martin’s desk, looking alarmed. “Sash, you got any tissues?”

Sasha dug around in her bag, grabbing a travel-size packet of tissues and handing it to Martin, who gratefully took it. As he wiped his nose, Tim took the arrangement to the break room, throwing the flowers in the trash can and setting the vase on the table before hurrying back to join the others. As he got closer, he was relieved to see that Martin looked better than he had a couple minutes ago. Not by much, admittedly – he was still sniffling, and his eyes were quite wet – but at least the sneezing had stopped. Sasha was sympathetically rubbing circles into his back.

“Guess your secret admirer didn’t know you had a flower allergy, huh?” She joked, trying to lighten then mood.

“That’s okay,” Martin sniffed. “Neither did I.”

“You mean you didn’t think to _ask him_ if he was allergic?!”

Jon really, _really_ hoped Martin and Sasha couldn’t hear him yelling at Tim through the closed door of his office. Honestly, how had they both managed to overlook such a basic precaution? Tim glared at him.

“I didn’t think about it, okay?! And even if I did, don’t you think it might’ve looked just a tad suspicious if I asked Martin about flowers, and then the next day, a bouquet showed up on his desk?”

“I…” As much as he wanted to, Jon found he couldn’t really argue with that. “Fine. I suppose you have a point there.” He sighed, frustration evident in his tone. “I knew this was a bad idea.” Simply making Martin uncomfortable had been bad enough, now they’d gone and made him sick, too.

Tim held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, sure, this plan was a bust, but it’s not the end of the world! We’ll figure something else out, something that doesn’t involve flowers.”

Jon rubbed a hand over his face, trying to ignore the sadness gnawing at him. “Look, just… go back to work, and we can talk, alright?”

“Alright.” Tim walked towards the door, pausing before he opened it. He turned around, regret on his face. “I really am sorry, Jon.”

It was obvious by his tone that he meant it. It did not ease the guilt that had settled in Jon’s chest.

“I know, Tim.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon pursues a new artistic endeavor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to yell about writing with me, I'm bluebirdishere on tumblr!

“I’ve got it,” Tim said, not bothering to knock as he walked into Jon’s office. “You could write him a poem! He writes poetry all the time, I’m sure he’d be thrilled to get a love poem addressed to him! Plus, it won’t set off his allergies either,” he finished, looking unreasonably satisfied with his idea.

Jon had been ready to admonish Tim for just barging into his office, but as he processed the other man’s words, the words died in his throat. The flower incident from earlier in the week had fueled the doubts he had about the whole “learn how to flirt” plan, and he’d been extremely reluctant to try making another move. He didn’t want to risk screwing up and hurting Martin _again_. Granted, writing a poem seemed like less of a health risk than the flowers had been, but still. Besides…

“Tim, I don’t know the first thing about poetry, nor have I ever written a poem. I’m not sure I’d be capable of writing anything good.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying you have to write on the level of Shakespeare or Keats or anything like that. Just write something simple and heartfelt, and you’re golden.”

Jon went quiet, mulling the idea over. He’d never been the best at expressing his emotions or doing anything “heartfelt.” Writing, though… he’d never written a poem before, true, but he _had_ written several songs during his days in the Mechanisms, and really, wasn’t a poem kind of like a song anyway? Sure, writing about someone you had feelings for was admittedly a little different than writing about immortal space pirates, but he might be able to pull it off

“Very well”, he decided. “I’ll give it a try.”

Tim pumped a fist in the air. “Alright, boss! Sweep your man off his feet!”

It was Jon’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’m not making some grand gesture. Writing him an anonymous poem hardly counts as ‘sweeping.’”

“’Anonymous’?” Tim asked, an eyebrow raised. “You _do_ realize you’re going to have to confess to all of this eventually, right?”

Jon glowered at him. “I am perfectly aware of that fact, thank you, and I plan on crossing that bridge when I get to it.”

“…Right.” With that, Tim turned and began walking out of the office. “Well, in any case, good luck.”

He closed the door as he left, leaving Jon to stew in his thoughts.

_It’s just a poem_. _It can’t be_ that _complicated, right?_ _I’ve got this._

Jon did not, in fact, have it.

What he _did_ have was a blank piece of paper that he’d been staring at for almost two hours, trying to think of something, anything, to write.

It wasn’t that he was lacking in inspiration. Martin had loads of wonderful qualities: his kindness, his laugh, his soft-looking ginger hair. The list of traits Jon could wax poetic about was endless, if only he could find a way to translate his feelings into words.

He groaned and stood up from the kitchen table. He’d managed to leave work at a semi-reasonable hour for once, intending to spend the evening writing. _So much for that plan._ He paced around the small living room, willing his brain to come up with something useable. After several minutes, he sat down again, frustrated but determined.

_I’m going to write him a poem even if it takes all night._

Much to Jon’s relief, the poem hadn’t taken the entire night.

Sure, it took until 3 AM for him to be satisfied with it, but he’d still been able to get a few hours of sleep, and he was reasonably certain Martin would like the poem. He’d even come up with a plan to deliver it: he’d send all three assistants outside the institute to follow up on statements, then place it on Martin’s desk while everyone was gone. Quick, easy, no allergens, and no chance of getting caught.

Nothing could go wrong.

Martin walked back to the archives, trying not to be too discouraged. Jon had sent him to follow up on some statement, and when he’d gotten there the statement giver had slammed the door in his face and refused to talk to him. After several minutes, he’d finally given up and reluctantly trudged back to the institute, not keen on explaining this to Jon. Even if he had been nicer recently, he still wouldn’t be too pleased to hear about the failed follow-up.

As Martin neared his desk, he noticed that there was an envelope sitting on it. It was addressed to him, but there wasn’t anything that indicated who might have left it. _Weird._

He opened the envelope, pulled a piece of paper out, and began reading it over.

_My Dearest Martin,_

_It took me by surprise_

_When I looked into your eyes_

_And quickly found myself smitten_

_As you smiled like the sun_

_I knew what had begun_

_By the love bug, I’d been bitten_

_Your laugh makes me weak_

_And even as we speak_

_I feel myself falling more_

_Each and every day_

_You take my breath away_

_You bring me joy like never before_

_I’m sorry to hide_

_But I simply must confide_

_You are the best thing about this place_

_Someday I swear_

_That I will declare_

_My feelings face-to-face_

Martin felt a deep blush overtake his face as he finished the poem. First the flowers, and now this… maybe he really _did_ have a secret admirer in the institute. The idea was almost too good to be true. Before he could think too much about it, though, the sounds of Tim and Sasha returning to the archives reached his ears. As they walked in, Tim grinned at Martin.

“Let me guess, you got another gift from your admirer?”

“H-how’d you guess?” Martin squeaked.

“You’re red as a tomato, Marto.” Tim slung an arm around Martin’s shoulders, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “You wanna tell the rest of the class what it is?”

“Leave him alone, Tim.” Sasha, at least, was making some effort to hide her curiosity. Not that she was doing a particularly good job of it; though the rest of her face was neutral, Martin could see the desire to know burning in her eyes.

“It’s alright, Sasha. And yeah, it’s probably from the same person who got me the flowers.”

He handed her the poem and she began to read it, Tim peering over her shoulder to read with her. If the look on his face was any indication, Tim was absolutely delighted by the poem. Sasha, on the other hand… as she read, Martin swore he saw a brief flash of recognition, but it was gone before he could ask her about it. She handed the poem back to him with a smile.

“Congratulations, Martin. Whoever they are, they’d be lucky to have you.”

Martin blushed. “You really think so?”

She nodded. “Of course I do. You’re sweet, thoughtful, _and_ quite handsome. Now, if you’ll excuse us…” She grabbed Tim’s wrist and began dragging him in the direction of Jon’s office. “…Tim and I have to talk to Jon about the follow-ups we were doing.”

Tim looked confused, but didn’t bother fighting her. “Uh, see you later Martin?”

“…yeah, see you later, I guess.” Martin said, as the pair walked into Jon’s office, not bothering to knock.

_What was all that about?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As usual, Sasha holds the braincell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My writing blog is bluebirdishere on Tumblr!

At the sound of his door opening, Jon looked up from his work, and frowned at the scene before him. Sasha was pulling Tim into the office by his wrist, a determined look on her face. Tim, on the other hand, looked just as confused as Jon felt.

“Sasha, what-“

Before Jon could finish the question, Sasha quickly closed the door and let go of Tim’s wrist. She rounded on Jon

“Right. Are you Martin’s secret admirer?”

Of course. Of _course_ Sasha would realize something was up. She’d always had an investigative mind; she was quite skilled at sniffing out possible leads and seeing links between clues during research. Once she was on the case, nothing could stop her from finding an answer. It was the reason Jon had chosen her an as assistant, and the reason why he was currently regretting that decision.

He raised an eyebrow at her, hoping the panic in his stomach wasn’t evident on his face. “What makes you think it’s me? There’s plenty of other people employed here. Who’s to say it’s not one of them?”

She glared back at him. “Don’t play dumb with me, Sims. The three of us are the only employees in the institute who see and talk to Martin regularly, so it makes the most sense that it would be one of us, and I know it’s not me. Now, I thought it might’ve been Tim, at first.” She turned towards Tim, scrutinizing him. “When Martin found the flowers, you didn’t look curious, or confused, or really even surprised. You looked like you were _waiting_ for him to find them, which would suggest you were the one who left them there.”

Tim sputtered at her, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Before he could refute the claim, though, she turned her gaze to Jon.

“Of course, that was before I read the poem. The poem that was written in _Jon’s_ handwriting.” She felt satisfaction bloom in her chest as Jon’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “Between that and the fact that you’ve suddenly become way nicer to him out of nowhere, I’m guessing that you’re the culprit, and Tim’s in on it. Am I right?”

Her coworkers stared at her in shock, not saying a word. After several seconds, Jon sighed and brought a hand up to his face to rub at his eyes.

“Fine. Yes. You’ve caught me, and now you’re here to what, gloat? Make fun of me?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and fixed him with a hard stare. “You honestly like Martin? You’re not just doing this to mess with him?”

Jon returned her gaze with a severe glare. “I assure you, my feelings for him are completely genuine. I realize I’m not always the kindest person, but I’m not so cruel as to pull a stunt like that.”

Sasha went quiet, searching his face for any signs of dishonesty. When she found none, her expression softened. “Then no, I’m not here to gloat, or make fun of you. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t trying to hurt Martin.” The two of them weren’t especially close, but she still cared about him, and didn’t want him getting his heart broken over some sick joke.

Jon’s own face softened as his glare melted away. “I’m not, I promise. I really do care for him.”

“Alright.” Sasha smiled at him. “You know, I never would’ve expected you of all people to write a mushy love poem.”

He blushed. “Yes, well, it was Tim’s idea. He figured that since Martin writes poetry, he’d enjoy receiving a love poem.”

“And I was right!” Tim grinned, immensely pleased with himself. “You should’ve seen the look on his face, boss. He was blushing so hard, I thought he was going to melt into a puddle right then and there.”

“Really?” Jon asked. “So he liked it?”

“He did,” Sasha affirmed. “That was a really sweet thing to do."

A small, shy smile formed on Jon’s face. “Yes, yes.” Sudden nervousness flickered across his features. “You, ah, won’t tell Martin about this, will you?”

Sasha mimed zipping her lips shut and throwing away the key. “Your secret’s safe with me,” she assured him.

He looked at her with gratitude. “Thank you, Sasha. Now if you’ll excuse me, I should get back to work.”

Sasha rolled her eyes, but turned to leave the office, Tim following behind her. Before she opened the door, she looked back over her shoulder.

“Seriously, Jon, good luck.”

With that, the two assistants exited the office, leaving Jon alone once more, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t especially pleased that Sasha had figured him out, but at least she could be trusted to keep quiet. He could only hope that Martin didn’t suspect anything, either.

Martin looked up as his fellow assistants came out of Jon’s office, looking much happier than he would’ve expected after a meeting with their boss.

“Everything go okay, then?” He asked.

“Yep!” Tim said cheerily. “Boss is in a surprisingly good mood today, for some reason.” Sasha lightly elbowed him in the rib, and he laughed.

Martin frowned, feeling as though he was missing out on some inside joke. He dismissed the thought with a shake of his head and stood up from his desk.

“Well, that’s good to hear. Anyway, I’m gonna go make my afternoon tea, you two want your usual?”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Sasha said as she returned to her desk.

“Yeah, thanks Martin,” Tim added, also sitting down.

Martin smiled at both of them. “Yeah, of course.” With that, he turned and headed to the break room. Once he arrived, he set about preparing the tea, putting the kettle on and grabbing four mugs. Once the water boiled, he poured it and added each recipient’s preferred flavor to their respective mug (chamomile for himself and Sasha, black for Tim, and Earl Grey for Jon). Once he’d finished, he grabbed Tim and Sasha’s mugs and quickly delivered them before returning to grab his and Jon’s. He dropped his mug off at his desk and made his way over to the Archivist’s office, knocking gently on the door.

“Come in,” Jon called.

“Hey Jon,” Martin greeted as he entered the room. “Made you your afternoon tea.”

He put the drink on Jon’s desk, and the other man smiled up at him.

“Thank you, Martin,” he said, tone genuinely thankful.

Martin resisted the urge to flee as he felt heat rise to his face. After almost two weeks, he still didn’t know how to react to this new, kinder Jon without embarrassing himself. He didn’t even understand what had prompted Jon’s sudden change in demeanor- not that it was unwelcome! It was actually quite nice, just… unusual.

“Of course.” He cleared his throat. “I should, uh, get back to work, lots of statements to sort through, you know how it is.” Not waiting for a response, he turned on his heels and returned to his desk, mentally kicking himself the entire way.

As he sat back down, something occurred to him. In the past couple of weeks, not only had Jon’s whole attitude changed, but he and Tim seemed closer, somehow. Tim had also been even cheerier, lately, and of course there was the weirdness between him and Sasha earlier that had left Martin feeling out of the loop.

He pondered that train of thought before mentally steeling himself. Everyone was acting strange lately, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. After all, it was his job to investigate strange things, wasn’t it?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the angst train!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient with this, y'all. Executive dysfunction and writer's block are a terrible combination

Martin sat in his living room, a piece of paper lying on the coffee table in front of him. After arriving home earlier in the evening, he’d performed the first step of his investigation: compiling a list of evidence regarding his coworkers’ strange behavior as of late. Out of the three of them, Jon had been deemed the most suspicious; his demeanor had changed practically overnight for no obvious reason. Granted, it was hard to argue that Jon becoming friendlier was a _bad_ change, but… it didn’t seem likely that Jon would undergo such a significant personality shift unless something serious had happened.

Of course, Tim and Sasha were also under scrutiny, Tim especially so. Between being extra jovial and suddenly becoming all buddy-buddy with their boss, Tim definitely stood out as a top suspect. If anyone knew what was going on with Jon, it would be Tim.

As for Sasha… she’d been acting pretty normal the past couple weeks, but after what happened earlier in the day, Martin couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew more than she was letting on. He made a note to ask her some questions tomorrow.

As he read over the list, he considered adding the gifts from his secret admirer. He technically didn’t have any evidence that they were from one of his colleagues, but it didn’t really make sense for it to be anyone outside the archives. He almost never interacted with anyone from the other departments. Even when he worked in the library, he’d largely kept to himself.

Actually, now that he thought about it, the weirdness from his coworkers and the gifts from his admirer had started happening pretty close together. Within a week or so, maybe? Definitely close enough that it didn’t feel like a coincidence.

What if… what if one of his coworkers fancied him, and the other two knew about it? Was that what was happening here? It was definitely the most logical explanation Martin had (and the only explanation, admittedly). The question now, though, was who?

He decided quickly that it probably wasn’t Sasha. She was too straightforward, not one to beat around the bush. If she fancied him, she would’ve just asked him out and not bothered with all the dramatics.

That left Tim and Jon. Gifting a whole vase of flowers seemed more up Tim’s alley than Jon’s, but… Tim tended to be rather open about his flirting. He regularly talked about the people he dated, and Martin had seen him easily flirt with people from other departments more than once. Why would he act any differently just because it was Martin?

Maybe it wasn’t him, though. Maybe it actually was Jon leaving the gifts there?

A few weeks ago, Martin would never have dared to believe such wishful thinking. The old Jon barely tolerated him, always complaining about the quality of his work and constantly giving him harsh looks.

Now, though? Jon actually seemed to _like_ having him around. Martin used to be able to count the number of times he’d seen Jon genuinely smile on one hand. Now, _he_ was frequently the target of those smiles. He almost melted the first time Jon really, properly smiled at him. And the gratitude! Gone was Jon’s obvious scorn, replaced by sincere thanks every time he was given tea or Martin brought him a finished report. If he was trying to make Martin experience gay panic on a daily basis, it was definitely working.

Did that actually mean Jon liked him, though? Martin couldn’t really think of any other explanation for the sudden change of heart, but at the same time, he didn’t want to risk getting his hopes up only to have them horribly dashed. On the other hand, Jon certainly seemed like the type of person who’d be a bit too reserved to just ask his crush out directly. Were the gifts an attempt at showing affection?

Martin leaned back against the couch and groaned. He was going to drive himself crazy if he sat there thinking in circles all night. At least he had evidence, and even some potential leads. Now he just had to start pursuing those leads.

\--

Jon stared up at his ceiling, too stuck in his thoughts to sleep.

He couldn’t keep this up forever. Sooner or later, Martin would surely start to suspect him. After all, it had only taken Sasha what, a couple weeks? Martin was, admittedly, not quite as analytical as she was, but he could be rather clever, and he was a dedicated worker. If he became determined to snuff out the culprit, he could probably connect the dots with little trouble.

Besides, Tim was right. Unless Jon wanted to stew in his feelings forever, he’d have to own up eventually.

How was he supposed to do that, though? It wasn’t like he could just pull Martin into his office and tell him there. “I need that report on my desk by next Wednesday. Oh, and I’m also the person who’s been leaving you gifts because I fancy you.” No, that was completely ridiculous.

Jon sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Maybe he should talk to Tim about this tomorrow.

\--

“You alright there, boss?”

“Hm?” Jon looked up from his barely-touched takeaway to see Tim looking at him in concern.

“I said, are you alright?”

“Oh. Yes, I’m fine, it’s just… you said the other day that I’d have to confess to Martin eventually.”

“Right…” Tim raised an eyebrow at him, unsure of where Jon was going with this.

“And I figured…” Jon rubbed the back of his neck nervously. The break room was perhaps not the _best_ place to have this conversation, but he’d been fixating on this issue all morning and hoped talking it out would help. “I figured I should probably do it soon. The problem is I don’t know _how_ to do it, though.”

“Hmmm.” Finished with his own meal, Tim went to throw his trash away before dumping his silverware in the sink. He turned back around to face Jon. “Okay, this is going to sound crazy, but bear with me: why don’t you just _ask him out_?”

Jon huffed. “It’s not that easy.”

“It is, actually.” Tim’s gaze softened. “I get why you’re nervous about this, I do, but if you keep thinking about it as some big ordeal, you’re just gonna drive yourself crazy with anxiety.”

Jon looked away and muttered something Tim didn’t catch.

“What was that?”

“…You know me too well,” Jon repeated in a barely-audible mumble.

Tim laughed at that, and Jon cracked his own small smile in return.

“Seriously though,” Tim said, sobering up. “Asking your crush out is like ripping off a plaster. Better to just yank it off and get it over with, because it’ll only hurt worse otherwise.”

“I’m… not entirely sure that metaphor works, but I think I see your point,” Jon replied. He straightened up in his seat. “So I should just go and ask him out?”

“Pretty much,” Tim said with a shrug. “Don’t make a bigger deal out of it than necessary. Just say you fancy him and ask him if he’d be interested in going on a date. Nothing to it.”

“Nothing to it…” Jon repeated quietly, mulling over Tim’s words. After a minute or so of thinking, he turned back to Tim.

“How about this?” He took a deep breath before beginning. “The truth is, I really like you. I have for a while, I think. I realize I haven’t always been the best at showing it, and I’m sorry for that, but I promise that I honestly do care for you, and I’d really like to take you on a date, if you’re up for it.” Finished, he raised an eyebrow, asking a silent _what do you think_?

Rather of one of his normal playful grins, Tim gave a sincere smile. “That was great, Jon. Seriously, just do that and you’re golden.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” Tim said with a nod. “Trust me, you can’t go wrong with that.”

\--

“Hey, Sasha?”

“Hm?” Sasha looked up from her spot on the floor next to a filing cabinet, where she was trying to organize a box of files. Martin sat down near her, careful not to disturb the many papers she had scattered around.

“I was just wondering if you had any idea who my secret admirer might be,” he said. “Figured if anyone knew, it would be you.”

“I see,” Sasha replied. She set the files she was holding down and turned to fully face Martin. “What makes you think it’s not me?”

“Wh-what?” Martin spluttered.

Sasha shrugged. “I figure that if you thought I was your admirer, you wouldn’t be asking if I knew anything, you’d just ask me if I was your admirer, yes or no. So what makes you think it’s not me?”

“W-well, it didn’t seem like the sort of thing you’d do, really-“ he blanched. “Wait, _are_ you my admirer?”

“No,” she stated bluntly, giving him an amused smile. “Just messing with you. You’re great, but you’re not really my type.”

“Oh.” Martin sighed with relief. “Good. I mean, you’re great too of course, I just, you know, don’t really swing that way.”

“Right. And to answer your earlier question, I do know who it is, actually.”

“Really?!” Martin sat there expectantly, but Sasha didn’t say anything else. He looked at her in confusion.

She shrugged. “I said I knew who it was, not that I would tell you.”

Martin groaned. “Thanks for the help.”

“Anytime,” she replied, sticking her tongue out. “Why don’t you ask Jon? He spends more time here than the rest of us, he might know what’s going on.”

“…Yeah, okay. I’ll do that.” He probably would’ve had to ask Jon about it eventually, right? He thanked Sasha and got up to go to the break room. If he was going to have a potentially uncomfortable conversation, he wanted a cup of tea first to soothe his nerves.

As he got closer to the break room, he heard voices coming from inside. While he couldn’t make out what was being said, it sounded like Tim and Jon.

_Great_ , Martin thought sourly. He’d been hoping for a few minutes alone to prepare himself before talking with Jon.

On the other hand… maybe talking to both of them at once would be less stressful than approaching Jon alone? Maybe he could just play his questions off as a passing curiosity, as opposed to a serious inquiry? Right, yeah, he could definitely do that. Martin approached the break room entrance, only to stop in his tracks as he poked his head inside.

Jon was looking at Tim with an almost-imploring expression. He took a deep breath and began talking.

“The truth is, I really like you. I have for a while, I think. I realize I haven’t always been the best at showing it, and I’m sorry for that, but I promise that I honestly do care for you, and I’d really like to take you on a date, if you’re up for it.”

Martin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. _He didn’t- there’s no way he actually-_

Tim smiled at him – a proper, genuine smile – and opened his mouth to speak. Martin did not stick around to hear the response.

How could he have been so _stupid_? Looking back, it all made sense: Jon and Tim had been spending more time together recently, and Jon had started being happier around the same time. And Tim was a great guy; he was hot, charming, funny.

Of course Jon had fallen for him. He was everything Martin wasn’t.

Martin entered the archives restroom, locking the door behind him as soon as he was inside. He pressed his back against the door and slowly slid to the floor, bringing a hand to his mouth to muffle his crying.

He shouldn’t be so upset over this. After all, it was just a silly little crush. It wasn’t like there was any real chance of Jon actually reciprocating. They were his friends, and he should be happy for them. He _would_ be happy for them.

Once it stopped hurting so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^)
> 
> I don't know when the next update will be, but I promise that it will not take over three months lol. As always, kudos and comments are very much appreciated!


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